St. Patrick's Day: How Not To Be That Guy (Or Girl)

Homer and Grandpa know how to get down
Anyone who has ever shown up for work hungover on a Wednesday knows the dangers of alcoholic overindulgence on a night not traditionally meant for it. One too many blended margaritas with the girls at Senor Barracuda's on Tuesday night and, before you know it, you're asleep and drooling on your desk and everyone in accounts receivable knows that you tried to fax your panties to Robert Goulet last night.

Anyone who has ever shown up for work still drunk on a Wednesday from a binge that started on Friday? Well, they know many things. And one of them is that the one night of the year that no professional drinker wants to be anywhere near a bar is on St. Patrick's Day.

St. Pat's is amateur night--the alcoholic equivalent of open-mic night at the comedy club or Bring Your Daughter To Work Day down at the local meth lab. It's a bad day for anyone to be out and about (mostly because everyone else is), and--like your 21st birthday or every New Year's Eve--never goes as well as you imagine it will. Rather than good-natured harps-and-clovers fun with a couple green beers as social lubricant, going out boozing on St. Pat's always ends up the same way: with mobs of idiots all wearing the same "Kiss Me, I'm Irish" tee-shirts and thinking they're clever, lightweight hat boys puking up green beer into the gutters, wobbly skanks in inappropriate heels drinking Irish car bombs until their ankles give way and someone getting arrested for urinating on a police horse (which, I might add, isn't easy).

I mean, you don't wanna be this guy--drinking his green beer alone and trying to behave himself.

But neither do you want to be this jerkoff, putting pretty little shirts on his pussy light beer and giving everyone in the bar the one-finger douchebag salute.

You don't want to be this girl, simply because there's no way she's going to make it to somewhere private where she can blow chunks in a dignified, girlish manner. And you don't want to be her boyfriend, either, because something tells me that Mr. Thought-This-Hat-Was-A-Good-Idea-Six-Hours-Ago ain't going home without barf on his party shirt.

You really don't want to be this girl. (Although I will admit that it looks like she enjoyed the hell out of her St. Patrick's Day.)

These two are pretty much the definition of who NOT to be on St. Pat's (it's the pitcher on the head that pushes them over the edge), and also a pretty good argument for just staying home completely.

And this is why grandma should never be allowed to do shots

Still, say you really love St. Patrick's Day, but are looking for something maybe a bit more tame. More social than staying home, more interesting than trying to experience any actual Irish culture (because, seriously, step-dancing is only interesting for about three minutes, parades are just an excuse to get hammered before noon, and no traditional Irish music can be listened to for more than five without pints of Guinness being served: it's a law), but less potentially embarrassing and ruinous than crawling drunkenly through the streets of downtown looking for the leprechaun that stole your shoes.

That's where Tom Douglas comes in because, once again, he'll be throwing a St. Patrick's Day Beer Blast on March 17, from 5-8pm at his Palace Ballroom (2100 5th Avenue). There'll be Irish ales on tap from a variety of local brewers (Snoqualmie, Maritime Pacific, Pike, Elliott Bay--all the usual suspects), vittles provided by Douglas's other restaurants and little snacks on offer from Beecher's Cheese, Theo's Chocolate and Market House Meats.

It promises to be a somewhat more refined good time than what you'll likely find down on Pioneer Square. And what's more, tickets are only $35. All the contact info you need can be found right here, and as for me? I think I'll just be staying home that night and leaving the debauchery to the rookies.

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